


The Moments of Happiness

by Miri Cleo (miri_cleo)



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Cats, F/F, Honestly I don't even know how to tag this, no one asked for this, so here it is ten years later, things I forgot I wrote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21874441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/pseuds/Miri%20Cleo
Summary: Jemima is curious about Grizabella the Glamour Cat, but it is Victoria who finds more than a legend.
Relationships: Grizabella/Victoria (Cats)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	The Moments of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in January of 2009, so before the ill-fated 2019 film. I remembered it today as I was listening to the 1983 Original Broadway Cast recording, and apparently I never ported it over to Ao3. So, here you are, internet; it's the CATS femslash you didn't ask for. 
> 
> Jemima, the calico kitten, is referred to as Sillabub in American productions of the show. There are lots of theories about how Grizabella came to her state; they vary with each production. So, I tried to combine elements for something seamless.

Jemima was not scared, but she was young enough still not to be scared of anything. The little calico kitten might have been the most mature of her contemporaries, but she still saw it as a great adventure. She was the only one with the daring to go after Grizabella the Glamour cat herself. The stories did make her seem frightfully mysterious, but more than that, Victoria could not say no to her friend. Even if it was she who was younger, it was Jemima who had the courage for their intrigues.

But when they were away from Etcetera and Electra, from all of the other Jellicle cats, the world seemed so different. Victoria was painfully aware of the grime accumulating on her paws and of strange eyes on her pretty white coat. She took so much pride in her coat because it was the most beautiful, she was the most beautiful of all the Jellicles.

They said that Grizabella was once the most beautiful, before she went to No-Man’s Land. And she had been a dancer too.

“There!,” Jemima hissed excitedly. But Victoria scarcely had time to look before the calico darted across the dingy street, leaving her no choice but to follow.

There, in the light of an open door stood a cat—neither too large nor too small. Jemima’s tail swished excitedly as she craned her neck forward, but Victoria was crouching. The scents were strange and overwhelming, and she flattened her ears against the noise when she heard a bottle crashing and shattering.

“Jemima...”

The calico’s eyes were wide in the darkness, and the gaslight caught in her golden irises. Her whiskers were twitching. “It’s her...just like the stories say. That’s Grizabella!”

The wretched creature was pushed out of the doorway by a roughly shod foot, and in the light of the streetlamps, she looked almost ghostly. Victoria recoiled at the sight of long, matted grey fur that was jagged and torn in places. The cat’s eye was twisted, just as the older cats said it was. It was absolutely horrid, but Victoria resisted the urge to hiss. It was terribly impolite to hiss when one was unprovoked.

Victoria’s own dark eyes widened when Grizabella looked directly at her. She rose haltingly as if to move to meet the kittens, but Victoria felt Jemima swipe her side.

“Come on!”

*****

They were not caught that night; though, Victoria had quite a time explaining the state of her appearance. Jemima seemed content enough with her adventure and happy to move on to Rum Tum Tugger and the other boys. And she was too—at least, she thought she was. She thought she was supposed to be. But Victoria found it ever so difficult to stop seeing the old cat’s twisted eye each time she closed her own.

When she lazed quietly, she thought of the dingy, grey coat. She supposed it could have been beautiful—not as brilliant as her own pure white hair, though. But if it were cleaned and combed, it might be quite glossy, quite soft. She could imagine how nice a coat like that would feel in the sunlight and how lovely the cat possessing it could be—could have been, she corrected herself as she thought of how sad and terrible Grizabella had looked. It was so very terrible, such a very terrible waste.

But Grizabella’s eyes, twisted though one of them was, held something...something of a faint hint of the dazzle that she must have once possessed. They seemed to watch Victoria even from her own thoughts.

*****

The first time she went out alone, Victoria was frightened, and when she found out, Jemima was livid enough to make her rainbowed fur stand on end. But Victoria had only watched. And she had not run away when the old cat came towards her.

Grizabella hesitated, though, and the white cat hadn’t the courage to meet her. When the gaslight above them guttered, Victoria bolted away, nearly tumbling over her own tail.

But she would remember the way Grizabella had moved—slow and halting but with the unconscious grace of one born to dance.

*****

It was when Grizabella began to seek them out that the others started to notice. They loathed her, Victoria began to see, because they were jealous, jealous of what Grizabella the Glamour Cat once was. They were jealous that even in ruin, there was something majestic about her.

Grizabella caught Victoria alone one night, but the white cat did not mind. There was no moon, but the old cat’s eyes seemed to have their own luminosity. She was wary, her ears rising and flattening back as she looked about her. The others could be so cruel. But she did not bolt when Victoria moved near her. And soon, Victoria noticed that Grizabella’s movements became more assured, and she found her own movements mimicking that.

She could feel the coolness from Grizabella’s nose close to her own, and she resisted the urge to hold her breath. The older cats sweeping whiskers twitched as she took in Victoria’s scent. There was something about her mouth, black as coal when it was half opened, that drew Victoria.

Breathing in Grizabella’s scent made her dizzy. It was essence of the grime of the streets, of the sweat from men’s hands, of the batter from fish shops, and the air of the river. It was all the things that had once horrified Victoria, and now, she found herself taking them in, going over each one so she could be certain to remember how they all combined to the scent that was Grizabella’s own. It was the most exhilarating feeling.

“You smell of fresh linens.” Victoria was startled by the sound of her voice only to be seized with the desire to hear it again. She had never heard a cat sound so fine, so soft and forceful. She needn’t imagine the glossy coat or dancer’s poise anymore. She could hear it all there in Grizabella’s sonorous contralto.

“They said you were a dancer,” Victoria managed between breaths. They said that she herself had such great poise, but she felt none of that then. “I’m...I’m a dancer too.”

The old cat’s lips curled into a bitter smile, but her eyes were far away. Victoria wanted to shrink away from what she could only imagine those memories were. She would be dancing at her first Jellicle ball soon. But at how many balls had Grizabella danced? And how many others had she been denied?

There was a clatter nearby and both cats turned, ears piqued in the direction. Grizabella’s muscles were tensed to flee, while Victoria’s were prepared to crouch. Her eyes were wide when she turned to her companion.

“Don’t go,” she said breathlessly, easing her own tension.

Grizabella’s tail twitched almost violently as she looked from Victoria to the now quiet distance. Victoria held her breath in surprise when she felt the grey cat’s muzzle against her neck. The touch was so gentle as to almost be desperate, but it was firm enough that Victoria could feel Grizzabella’s soft purring for a fleeting moment before the older cat dashed away into the darkness.

Victoria was left there, watching after Grizabella. She waited until the moon rose and shone from behind thin clouds. She groomed her dainty paws, and the grey cat’s scent lingered on her thick fur. When she finally went away, all she could think of was Grizabella’s touch.

*****

“I’ve seen you with the Glamour Cat,” Jemima said, purring as she smoothed the unruly fur of her cheeks with her paw.

Victoria swished her tail. “You were the one who wanted to find her.”

“To find her and see what she was like, yes.” Jemima rolled onto her back, stretching so that the pretty, soft fur of her stomach caught the light. “But not to invite her to groom me. I would much rather let Rum Tum Tugger do that.” She smirked.

Victoria got to her feet, swishing her tail more violently before getting hold of her temper. She should have known Jemima would have been watching, especially on nights with a large moon. Jemima’s instincts were of the moon.

“Well...what of it?” Victoria managed, holding her head high.

Jemima rolled. “Nothing at all. The older cats don’t like her hanging around.”

“They are jealous.” Would they be jealous of her someday? “It isn’t fair that she should suffer because they are jealous. They won’t let her back, and she can’t try because she’s afraid. Wouldn’t you be?”

“Me?” Jemima stood lazily, arching her back. “No. Not me. What does it matter to you?” She blinked her big eyes and cocked her head curiously.

“It just matters,” Victoria said quietly. Jemima was giving her a significant look, and Victoria knew that her friend did not understand. But she also knew that Jemima would keep her secrets.

*****

Grizabella’s fur tasted of salt and iron under Victoria’s tongue, and it refused to become smooth. She nuzzled the older cat’s cheek fondly, hoping to feel her neck rumbling softly. Grizabella nuzzled her back, and the leaves rustled around them in the night’s slight breeze.

Victoria settled herself behind Grizabella; she could feel the grey cat’s warmth against her belly, and that made her purr more deeply. She had lain in Grizabella’s place for what seemed like countless nights now, luxuriating in the feel of Grizabella’s tongue on her fur, Grizabella’s body next to hers. But she wanted to make the other cat feel that wonderful. All day she had been restless anticipating it.

But now, as she ran her tongue along the back of Grizabella’s ear and curled her tail about the other cat’s back, it was not as she had imagined. Grizabella’s purr was faint, and without looking, Victoria could tell that her eyes were distant.

“Doesn’t it feel good? Aren’t I doing it right?” she whispered.

“It is wonderful.” Grizabella’s voice was soft and full, as if it was holding back a torrent of memories.

Victoria knew that memories lead to the meaning of happiness. Moonlight spilled over them, and she knew that it was Grizabella who deserved the honor of going to the Heaviside Lair.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Moments of Happiness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101077) by [twtd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twtd/pseuds/twtd)


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